A Year of Extraordinary Kindness
Personal story on new life and loss.
Hey Knotters,
Today I want to share with you a very personal story. It’s about fatherhood, parenting and baby loss. I appreciate this could be a triggering topic for some people and a surprise to land in your inbox, feel free to bow out now.
Moving Back
When we first moved back to this area we hadn’t decided we were ready to start a family. Yet, when I reflect, it was always on the cards.
I’m from Meir Heath, Sarah from Clayton and we met in London. We bought a house in Stone, got married at Stoke Town Hall with a wedding reception at The Tawny. I look back and the stars were aligning for us to start a family here. Especially with both sets of parents within in 15 mins.
Honestly though, the first year living here after a life in London was strange. We weren’t fully happy. No sushi, no coffee. Crumbling high streets and an ageing population. Where are all the hipsters? What will we do for work?
The Knot, was born out of my frustration and also optimism for Stoke and Staffordshire. If I’m going to lay down roots here, I want the place to change. I don’t want the culture of doom, gloom and deprivation to be pervasive - I don’t want that culture to harm me, or my family.
In that sense, The Knot’s purpose is in some ways linked to my own desire to shape my future and the potential future of my family. When I started The Knot in April 2024, it was around the time that Sarah and I also decided to start trying for a baby too.
As quickly as I realised it would be very difficult for me to turn The Knot into a sustainable business for myself, and my family - we found out Sarah was pregnant. That was June, last year.
All of a sudden, The Knot took on a new meaning to me. I’d decided to drop other work and other projects - I wanted to go all in on something. Going all in on a local news organisation with just our mouths to feed felt risky (and when you run the numbers pretty silly). But to do that with a baby on the way felt impossible.
I’d love to tell you what I was doing in the summer months from June to October last year, but I can’t remember. I was stressed and anxious. Running around Staffordshire trying to build partnerships for The Knot I think, setting up Facebook ad campaigns, writing, trying to hire writers. If I’m honest I was a bit lost and truthfully stressed about how my entrepreneurial career would now support our growing family.
Teddy
Everything changed on October 1st. At our 20 week scan in Bradwell we were told by a teary eyed sonographer that she’d found “a lot of problems with our baby”. It’s a moment I’ll never ever forget. The ceiling fell in. It was like being inside a snowglobe and our whole life was turned upside down. We were floating in mid-air. Caught in grief, despair and helplessness.
Nobody talks about it, but many families are faced with heartbreaking decisions at 20 week scans (known as the detailed scan for a reason). We were one of those families and we learned over the next week that our baby would never make it. The numerous health conditions found on the 20 week scan “were not compatible with life”.
What followed was a form of hell and torture that I won’t go into all the details of. What’s relevant for today is that the scene of all of this was Stoke and the people holding our hands through this despair were midwives, bereavement midwives, doctors, consultants at Royal Stoke and a wider community full of extraordinary kindness.
Everyone in Stoke and our surrounding areas knows Royal Stoke, you were probably born there. Only a handful of people know the Forget-me-not rooms in the maternity centre though. Private rooms where families go to say goodbye to their babies. That’s where we were for 4 nights when we said goodbye to Teddy.
Extraordinary Kindness
I’ve no doubt we’d have received incredible support from any midwives in any part of the country. But I honestly cannot imagine going through what we went through anywhere else. The kindness we received in that place goes beyond words and brings tears to my eyes as I type. The eye contact, the gentle touch of an arm. The simple question “can I meet your baby?” “What’s their name?” Our traumatic experience was genuinely made to be a special one by that army of incredible midwives. Made extra special with a soothing “duck” or “Duckie” at the end of a sentence. In here, we truly received this extraordinary kindness.
You might recall but from October to February I was absent from The Knot. I left things to Helen and I went off grid with Sarah. We planned Teddy’s funeral at Carmountside and went on a road trip to Ireland. The Knot’s future was the least of my worries at that time.
Throughout our grief we kept being touched by this extraordinary kindness. I remember picking up Teddy’s ashes from Carmountside the day before we were due to get the Ferry to Belfast. The man working there didn’t just push them through the glass, he walked out, came around to us and asked us how we were. He spoke to us for 10 or 15 minutes. He shared with us what other people do with ashes to create a special place or memory. I remember at the time being stunned again by this stranger’s kindness and thinking “would I get this anywhere else?”. Like I said, I hope we would. But I am convinced that the people of Stoke have an extraordinary amount of kindness in their heart.
This year we’ve had to rebuild ourselves from the ground up. For me that’s meant rebuilding myself professionally as well as emotionally. My post earlier in the year about nearly shutting down The Knot was real and true. What I didn’t share at the time was this story, that I was also asking very big questions about what I wanted to do and spend my time on.
Going through baby loss in Stoke has kept me even more passionate about this place, and most specifically its people. There’s a soul here that’s special that’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt anywhere else. There’s a love I have for this area that runs so deep, 200 years deep, that I struggle to find the words for. The closest I can come to sharing it is that the people we’ve been supported by in this time - I felt as though we’ve been treated like family. I’ve felt a form of unconditional love. I’ve felt this love from neighbours, from people I’ve met through The Knot, people I run with, people I chat to in BEAR or Piccoloco or the sauna at Whitmore Lakes. There’s a love here and a sense of community that is familial and it is powerful.
This love. This extraordinary kindness lives here. Lives in Stoke. Lives in Staffordshire. In its people. It’s in our local butcher in Stone who with complete sincerity asks how we’re doing, and if he could get Sarah anything whilst she’s pregnant. It’s in Steve and Sam who go out of their way to bring together the community of families who’ve lost a baby in this area by organising events and memorials. It’s in Sarah and Caroline, bereavement midwives who go above and beyond to give all families dignity in their experience at Royal Stoke. It’s in the people at MARA Run Club who sent us peace lillies. It’s in the army of knitters, people I’ve never met, who’ve sent us gifts.
Fast forward to now and I’m writing this a year to the day we had Teddy’s funeral at Carmountside and her wake at Upper House in Barlaston. I’ve been part of setting up Forget-Me-Knot FC, a football team for bereaved dads in partnership with Port Vale and UHNM. I’ve shared our story on Radio Stoke and I’ve rebuilt myself to a place where I can truly say our experience was life changing and has made me a better person. In this paragraph alone there are extraordinary people who’ve been so kind to me and bring that kindness into our community every day. Brett and everyone at PVFC Foundation, Lee Blakeman from BBC Stoke, Sean at Forget-me-Knot FC and all the other dads there.
Xander
I am also sitting here now as a Dad, again, with Xander just 7 weeks old who arrived safely into the world on 21/10 at Royal Stoke. Just over a year after we lost Teddy. Xander was delivered by the same midwifery team who so kindly ushered Teddy in and out of the world. We even had a midwife, Kim, who played a part in delivering both of our babies. We had specialist consultant care and incredible support throughout the whole pregnancy and a sea of midwife visitors for Xander in the hospital the day after he was born. Ali, who delivered Teddy last year sent us a gift for Xander - that is the level of kindness and thoughtfulness I’m talking about.
There is a whole world and community of kindness, dedication and love in Stoke and Staffordshire that I have seen, witnessed and been on the receiving end of. We don’t shine a light on it enough. We focus on the negative. On the potholes. On the shops closing down or the smashed up windows. Yet this area is full to the brim of truly exceptional people. Extraordinary people that show up every day and are kind and brave and helpful and supportive.
I started The Knot out of an anger and a frustration that our region was unfairly perceived. I stand by that. After the year we’ve had, what will always keep The Knot going is the truly remarkable people in this area that deserve a voice and who deserve to be recognised.
To the midwifery team at Royal Stoke, and especially those who deal with bereavement midwifery, this one is dedicated to you. You are remarkable.
To our readers, to the people of Stoke and Staffordshire. I know how special you are. I know the values that you’ve been raised on. I see who you are and we’ll keep shining a light on you and our community.
To the people of Stoke and Staffordshire. To their extraordinary kindness.
Cheers,
James x
A truly wonderful piece of writing, thank you for sharing. And yes, Stoke is special. Love to your family.